Broken Dreams (7 page)

‘Exactly.’

‘What did you do?’

‘I spoke to Jennifer about it.’

‘Not Mr Briggs?’

‘No. I thought it was more appropriate to go to her first. She was the company accountant.’

‘What did she say?’

‘She took me out for lunch.’

‘Lunch?’ Murdoch had some nerve, I thought.

‘Away from other people listening. She wanted to do it privately. She told me she had a problem with one of her assistants.’

‘Sonia Bray?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know, I didn’t ask.’

I told her to carry on.

‘This assistant had been cashing the cheques and taking the money but she’d only just found out about it. Jennifer said she’d been having some personal problems, stuff with her husband, that kind of thing. So she’d taken her eye off the ball, so to speak. She’d never opened up to me before, so I was flattered she was telling me, I suppose.’

‘What was the problem with her husband?’

‘Money problems, arguing, the usual kind of stuff. She confessed to me that she wasn’t really doing a good enough job and she’d let this assistant get away with it.’

‘And you believed her?’

Buckle didn’t answer.

‘You know what it sounds like, don’t you? Why didn’t you report the matter to Mr Briggs or your manager? Surely you had a responsibility to do that?’ She was upset, but I had little sympathy.

‘She asked me for some time, so she could sort it out. The next day she said she could get just under £10,000 back, about half the amount. She said she’d sacked the assistant, so it wouldn’t happen again.’

‘And you accepted that?’

Buckle was barely whispering. ‘She offered me half of the money to not mention it to Briggs.’

I was trying to process the information. ‘Why would she do that?’

‘Because she said Briggs would sack her if he found out.’

‘But she wasn’t doing her job properly?’

Buckle shook her head but offered nothing further.

‘If it had been her assistant, she didn’t really have to worry too much, surely? You went along with her story, despite knowing it wasn’t true. It doesn’t make sense. You let someone else take the blame. Why would you take the money? You’ve got a good job.’ I shook my head. ‘You’re a qualified accountant; you could lose your qualification, couldn’t you?’

‘I needed the money.’

‘Sorry?’

‘I needed the money. Me and my husband had bought a house, just before the property collapse. Our mortgage deal was about to end, he’d lost his job as a builder and we were struggling. Jennifer offered me a way out. I didn’t question it. I suppose I just heard what I wanted to from her.’ She sat up straight and held my stare. ‘We all have money problems, don’t we? I might be lucky enough to have a good job but it’s expensive just getting by.’

I thought about Sonia Bray. She’d carried the can for Murdoch and had been taken advantage of.

‘Why did Jennifer need the money?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I think you do. Even if you were complicit in her deception, you must have wanted to know why. You were putting yourself on the line.’

I watched her stand and pace around the room. She was biting at her fingernails. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Are you going to tell Mr Capebourne? If he finds out, he’ll sack me. I’ll lose my job, my qualification, everything.’

I stood up. ‘I need to know why Jennifer needed the money.’

‘She was gambling. She’d joined a casino. I think her husband had taken her there once and she’d got the bug for it. She told me she’d got into some trouble but her half of the money would clear her and she’d seek help. I wanted to help her.’ She turned to me. ‘What are you going to do now?’

I shook my head. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know.’

‘You’ve got a nerve, Joe.’

I flashed her what I hoped was a winning smile but she was right. Jane was sort of an ex, and I hadn’t spoken to her in a long time.

‘You messed me around, never returned my calls and then you pitch up here expecting my help. Unbelievable.’

I passed her a menu. We were sat in a quiet corner of The Corn Exchange, a pub close to the office. It was late afternoon and I’d spent the last couple of hours delivering warrants. The kind of bread and butter work which keeps our heads above water. I wasn’t hungry but it was the only way I could get her to agree to meet me.  ‘I hear the fish and chips are good.’ I placed my wet coat on the back of my chair. So much for the sunshine.

She shook her head. ‘You certainly know how to treat a girl, don’t you?’

I sipped at my diet coke. ‘I know...I should have called you.’

‘Save it, Joe.’ She flashed a smile at me. ‘Water under the bridge.’

I hoped it was true. A mutual friend had introduced us and I’d felt pressurised into asking her out on a date. In truth, I’d had mixed feelings about it. On one hand Jane is an attractive divorcee in her late thirties with everything going for her. On the other hand, it all felt far too soon after Debbie’s death. The date had been set up with good intentions, but I was surprised how unprepared I felt. The body was willing but other parts of me less so. When I remembered Jane worked for Christopher Murdoch, I’d made the call. It had felt embarrassing but needs must.

‘Let’s get one thing straight, though’ Jane said. ‘I’m still angry with you. I’m only here because I want to help Christopher.’

I nodded and took our order to the food counter. I had about twenty minutes before it arrived. Sitting back down, I asked her how Murdoch was doing.

‘As you’d expect,’ she said, ‘he’s in pieces. His wife has been murdered.’

‘How about the police? I assume they’re in close contact with him?’

I stumbled over my words but Jane cut across me. ‘If you mean, are they treating him as a suspect, I don’t know. What’s your interest?’

I told her I’d been investigating his wife. ‘Do you know her?’

‘Not really. I’d met her at functions but I wouldn’t say I knew her.’

‘How was their marriage?’

Jane put her drink down and stared at me. ‘I know what you’re doing.’

‘What am I doing?’

‘For whatever reason, you’re fishing. I don’t know why and I can’t say that I want to know. I know how you make a living, Joe, and frankly, I find it a bit strange. All I want to do is help Christopher as much as I can, so whatever it is you want to know, can we get to the point?’

I nodded. Definitely business not pleasure. ‘How long have you worked for him?’

‘About five years. I met him when we both worked for the council. When he set up on his own, he asked me to come with him.’

‘What do you do?’

‘I assist him. Work on projects, meet people. It’s not a specific job.’

‘I assume you two get on?’

‘Absolutely. I wouldn’t work for him otherwise. He treats me well; I’m well paid, given interesting projects to work on and I’m left to get on with things. And I get to help shape the future of the city. It’s perfect for me.’

‘And away from work?’

‘We don’t really socialise too much. We both have lives away from work but I have nothing bad to say about him. He’s a decent guy who people warm to. Feel free to ask others who know him.’

I assumed you had to be likeable in some way if you were trying to bend people to your way of thinking. If you’re fronting regeneration projects, it’s also inevitable you’re going to face opposition and be unpopular. ‘Has he said anything about his wife’s murder?’

‘Like what? Do you think he did it?

‘I don’t know.’ I shrugged. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time it was the husband.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Christopher isn’t capable of such a thing.’

I leant closer. ‘I’m trying to level with you, Jane. These sorts of things don’t happen by accident. If I accept he didn’t do it, then it means one of them has seriously pissed someone off. Does he have any enemies?’

‘Of course not. He’s a businessman, not a gangster.’

‘Does he have an alibi?’

‘Not that I’m aware of, though he shouldn’t need one. He didn’t do it.’

She put her drink down and smiled at me. ‘How about you? Anybody new on the scene?’

I wondered how she could be so certain about him before telling her there was no one special in my life. The food was brought to our table and we ate in silence.

I was happy to have the excuse of a meeting with Donna’s boyfriend from the factory to escape from Jane. It had been a mistake talking to her. As I waited for the barman to give me my change, I picked up my drink and looked around. The pub was run down and practically empty. Shabby, nicotine stained wallpaper adorned the walls, reminding me how much the smoking ban had cost places like this. There were few people in the place, but one or two who’d probably been there since opening time. The old man stood next to me at the bar continued to stare as I walked away. I spotted who I was looking for in the corner and walked across the room.

‘Simon?’

He looked  me up and down before nodding.

‘Joe’ I said, introducing myself.

‘How did you find me?’

I looked at the man who Donna had met at the factory. He was wearing an out of date Manchester United shirt and dirty jeans. I guessed he was about 40 years old. ‘I’m a private detective.’

He snorted. ‘That doesn’t answer the question.’

‘I rang the factory and asked for you.’ Sometimes it really was that easy. I got to the point. ‘Tell me about Donna Platt’ I said.

‘Not much to tell.’

He was going to be hard work. ‘Did you meet Donna at the factory?’

‘Where else?’

The pool table was the only sign of life in the pub, with two teenagers in caps laughing loudly at each other’s shots. I looked at the black and white photographs of the local area on the wall whilst I waited for him to elaborate.

‘She was on the line I supervise’ he eventually said. ‘And it just sort of developed.’

I nodded. ‘People meet at work and things happen.’ My mobile vibrated in my pocket but I ignored it. ‘What was Donna like?’ I asked.

‘Different.’

‘Different?’

‘Vulnerable. She needed some company, someone to talk to. I suppose I liked being that person.’

I wasn’t sure whether his answer was uplifting or just plain creepy. I wondered if he’d taken advantage of her. ‘Where did you do your talking?’

‘Sometimes in here, sometimes at her flat.’

‘Her flat?’ I asked him for the details. ‘Did she ever talk about her singing career?’

He turned to look at me.

‘What singing career?’

‘She used to sing around the clubs. She was in a band called
2’s Company
.’

He laughed. ‘She was a singer?’

I nodded.

‘I had no idea.’

‘She never mentioned it? I was surprised. The band had been her life.

‘Why are you asking me about this?’ he asked.

‘I need to speak to her.’

‘Why?’

‘Her mother wants to know she’s alright.’

‘Can’t help you, I’m afraid.’

‘You’ve not heard from her recently?’

‘Not since we split up.’

‘When was that?’

‘Three, four years back. A long time ago.’

‘Any idea where she went?’

‘None at all.’

‘Apparently she just upped and went. Was it because you hit her?’

‘What did you say, cunt?’

‘Did you hit her?’ We were eyeballing each other.

‘You best watch your mouth.’

I removed a post-it-note from my pocket. ‘1992, conviction for assault followed by another in 1995. Charges dropped in 2000. It looks like a habit to me, Simon.’ Don had done good work. ‘Do your employers know about these?’

‘Get fucked.’ He’d turned away from me. There was no venom. He was beaten. ‘Did you hit Donna?’

‘I never laid a finger on her and that’s the truth.’

‘Where did she go, Simon? I need to know.’

‘Look, you can throw your weight around all you like, but I still don’t know. Once we finished, I had nothing to do with her. It was easier that way.’

‘What about at work?’

‘She said she was going to transfer to another shift. I didn’t see her and after a while I assumed she’d got herself another job.’

‘Away from work?’

‘I never saw her again.’

‘Why not?’

‘My wife found out about us..’

Lauren skipped out of the kitchen, smiling and headed in the direction of the front room.

‘It’s a good job you can do maths’ said Sarah.

I smiled. ‘It’s maths for nine year olds. Besides, you’re supposed to be our book-keeper.’ I needed to catch up with Sarah and going to her house was the easiest option. ‘I don’t remember learning that stuff at nine.’

Sarah playfully punched me on the shoulder. ‘It’s hard stuff.’ She collected up the plates from the dining table and placed them in the sink. ‘Sure you’re not hungry?’

I said I wasn’t and told her not to change the subject. ‘It’s only percentages.’ She’d text me earlier in the evening, asking if I wanted to come round to help with Lauren’s homework. The text said I owed, but I was pleased to help. I was pleased not to be sitting by myself in the flat and was determined I’d take the leftovers home with me. I was passed a coffee refill. ‘‘You’re exaggerating’ I laughed. ‘It’s not quite that difficult.’

‘You want to try explaining why you can’t help to her teacher.’

‘Not at all..’ Everything’s easy if you know the answer, I thought.

I took the coffee off her and set it down on the kitchen table. Sarah switched the television off.

‘Donna Platt’s first boyfriend’ she said, passing me over a neatly typed report.

I glanced at the in-depth information. ‘Tell me about him’ I said.

‘As we know, Tim Nicholson met Donna at the shop his parents own. They both worked there part-time. Donna was seventeen when they met, Tim was twenty. A bit of a difference when you’re that age, but he tells me it wasn’t a problem to them.’

‘What does Tim do now?’

‘He’s an account’s clerk for a local builders merchants.’

It didn’t sound too exciting to me. ‘I’d have thought he would have stuck with the family business.’